St David's Day. Weird goings on indeed today. The bloody fog is still here, and so I refuse to venture out of doors until the call of the pub summons me in the evening.
Down to the Hare & Hounds where I discover that a party is being thrown in Otley by one of Linda Smith's colleagues. At first the idea doesn't seem too bad, but hang on a minute. Chris brings Denny down with him. She's no longer a smoker, and discos are no longer a thrill and a joy to her. Ade is ruining her life but she refuses to realise it. The poor girl will be engaged and married off by the summer of '76 - you mark my words. Linda Smith says that Christine Dibb and Helen Lockyer (Jane's sister) can't come to the party, but I protest and also refuse to go. The three of us remain at the Hare. June Dixon, a real snobby weirdo, and her pal, Brenda take the three of us to the Fox - the next pub down from the Hare. We stay until 10.45 and go after being insulted by one of the barmaids. Back to Helen's in Menston. Drink Martini, beer and whisky in front of the TV until it closes down and then go through a book containing the works of Salvador Dali. June and Brenda leave at 12 - in something of a hurry after I said something disagreeable, and the three of us remained until 3.30. Finished off with toast and Bovril then Jane drove us home.
Go to Leeds on the 55 bus and encountered Philip Knowles no less. He had certain unrepeatable things to say about Christine, but otherwise it was a pleasant journey. Work was busy but pleasant. Didn't arrive until 9.15 and left at 4.30. My lovable boss is worth her weight in gold.
On Wednesday in the Hare I had an interesting conversation with Helen and we decided to hold a joint birthday celebration on April 5. Something like Chris and Laura did last year - a coach party job. She's going to do some ringing round over the next few days. May as well arrange it as soon as possible.
At lunchtime I get another pair of trousers - brown this time though.I'll be something like a living tailor's dummy by the time Spring pops up.
To the Hare & Hounds with Lynn and Dave. Chris comes along. Christine is babysitting or something equally obnoxious for a Friday. Keith and Helen, Carol (with her hair up). No Phyllis Whitethighs she has galloping pnuemonia or something. John and Naomi in all their splendour. Helen (or Southern Comfort Sally), and that's about it. The Happy Family in the Hare and all is well. Some move on to the Malt Shovel in Menston, but the life and soul remain faithful to the Pub of Pubs.
To Wikis where Christine Dibb and I dance ourselves into a semi-state of unconsciousness. At 1.30 whilst we are still dancing the others creep home leaving us to our own devices. We walk home together at 2. a bit misty, but no cold which was a God send.
More ruddy fog all day. I don't mind snow. I can tolerate frost, ice, rain, heatwaves and hurricanes, but I draw the line at fog. A lung congesting white blanket which does nothing but depress all who who into contact with it. Sickening.
We all, other than Kathleen that is, evacuate the library and perch in 'the Black Hole of Calcutta' as Ronnie Wilkinson would say. Bogged down cutting yesterdays EP and todays YP.
Escape to the Central with Eileen again for our Thursday afternoon booze-up. This is becoming quite a regular thing, and I only hope we can manage to keep it up. The trouble is I become so tired after a lunchtime drink. By 3.30 I'm invariably snoring under a desk or in a semi-coma behind a filing cabinet. Out at 4.30 and home by 5.15.
Tomorrow Uncle Harold and the Labour government more or less celebrate their first birthday. I say 'more or less' because the general election was on Feb 28, but the late Mr Heath didn't resign until the middle of August or something. Please do not think that my views about the government have changed in any way. That would be the last thing I'd want. It's just that I've made up my mind that Uncle Harold isn't such a filthy old Bastard after all. In fact, he's quite human really. If he changed to a Tory I'm sure he'd do everyone a favour. Anyway, he pushed the Queen's money through parliament last night, which was good of him.
Let the Bells ring out! Marita just rang. She's coming out with us the weekend after next.